Skin
by Zam Bamilo
Summary: A Colossus story. Lots of other XMen show up. This is my first try of fan fiction of any sort.


_This is my first fan fiction of any kind. I just wanted to give it a try. It's not finished. I need some encouragement, I think, to finish it._

**Skin**

Colossus was a mutant. Piotr Rasputin was a human being.

For centuries, human beings have battled with their identities, trying to piece together themselves from memory and experience. Human beings will always try to answer the question, "Who am I?" But they will never have to add into that mix several layers of organic steel. They will never know what it's like to be flesh one moment and metal the next.

There were moments when Piotr thought he was Colossus, and moments Colossus thought he was Piotr. There were days, especially when his mutant ability first manifested, he was mired in confusion. There were mornings when he sat on the edge of his bed, staring into the mirror on his dresser, changing and unchanging, becoming Colossus and becoming Piotr, again and again just so he could have another look at the person he thought he was. Those days, he would begin to feel like a word repeated too many times; he would begin to lose meaning.

Professor X had tried to explain things to him, but the professor had a peculiar way of communicating thought (especially when it was just brain-to-brain). Xavier had said to him, "Piotr, only you can decide who you are, but perhaps you are looking at the problem incorrectly. Maybe it's not a choice between Colossus and Piotr Rasputin. Maybe it's a choice between one who is seeking and one who is not." Colossus had thought about that statement for years, and he still couldn't quite wrap his mind around it. Maybe it was because the thought itself was designed to be contradictory. Maybe it was something lost in translation (Russian to English, Psychic to Non-Psychic). Maybe he had changed so many times that his brain was permanent steel and wouldn't allow a thought like that to be understood.

In truth, he didn't know. He was still a seeker. And he still sat on the edge of his bed some mornings wondering who he really was.

This was one of those mornings. So he sat there and started seeking, but he didn't get far.

"Penny for your thoughts?" said Kitty Pryde. She had phased through the covers and through his body, and now sat on his lap, her arms around his neck. Her hazel eyes were inches from him, and her eyes became his focus; her eyes became his identity.

"You're pretty," he said, stupidly, and she laughed at him.

"Thanks, you big softy," she said.

"You're the only one who would call me softy," he said. "Haven't you heard? I'm indestructible."

"'My indestructible lover'," she mused. "Sounds like the title of a romance novel. One with Fabio on the cover."

"Perhaps I should grow my hair longer?" he said, his thick Russian accent sounding almost comical around those words.

"Yeah. Good idea. Solid steel ponytails turn me on."

They laughed and fell onto the bed playfully, kissing one another first lightly, then passionately. The hours of the morning fell away, and only once did Piotr think about his identity. His thought was this: _Not Piotr, not Colossus. When I make love to her, I know exactly who I am._

- - - - -

Kitty woke, sitting up in bed quickly.

"Piotr …"

"I hear it too," said Piotr.

It was scratching noise against the wall, slow and arrhythmic, like a dog testing a door that's been closed.

"They found us." Kitty asked, jumping out of bed, glancing at the ground with her arms spread, a gesture Piotr had long since associated with her phasing through the floor to escape. But she didn't phase away. She simply said, "How?"

"Doesn't matter," said Piotr, standing now, staring in the direction of the noise. "They've just found us."

The scratching noise continued, increasing in intensity. The slow scrapes vibrated the rock enough to be heard through at least five meters of solid granite. The scratches intensified yet again. Then, two loud slams against the stone. Then, the noise stopped.

After a moment of silence, Kitty grew calm. "It will only be a few hours now. That scout will bring more of them."

"We will be rescued," said Piotr, reaching his hand out to her. She didn't take it immediately, an instant of despair showing up on her face.

"But …"

"We will be rescued, or we will fight," he said, his hand still extended again toward her.

This time she took it. He squeezed her petite hand gently in his oversized one. He said, "We will be rescued, or we will fight. We just need a solid plan."

"Solid or un-solid," she said, "We just need a plan."

The monster outside shook globs of glowing, oozing slime from its face. From its eyes, nose, mouth, and ears dripped a constant syrup of green goo, a substance that sizzled on the ground and cave walls as it was slung around. Globs of it lit the walls as it burrowed, giving the entire tunnel a bright green light. It was a mixture of acid and mucus, a sinus infection that stings. And there was tons of it. Literally tons. The constant stream of mucus filled the creature's head inter-dimensionally, transporting from a rather dangerous planet in the S'irl galaxy (some fifteen-million light years away) to this creature's sinus cavities.

The monster did not know this. It only knew that it was. And that it was hungry.

And it was huge, roughly twenty-five feet in length. It was humanoid, but it crawled on all fours like a mole or a groundhog, burrowing through tunnels of earth and rock with its thick claws. It wore no clothing, and had dirty, pale skin, the color of a fish that's been caught and left to die on a riverbank. Looking at the creature, one might assume it was some sort of giant man, having a similar build, but the creature was hairless and had no visible sex organs. Except for being covered in scabs and filth, the creature's skin seemed to have no breaks, flaws, or orifices whatsoever. So, a bystander observing the creature from a distance (too close and he'd be eaten) would conclude that the only thing way this creature could defecate would be through its mouth.

This creature crawled with a report to give. It's thick mind pounding simple commands; _find others, report food, get help, eat_. But a psychic, reading this creature's thoughts, would be alerted to the simplicity of it's brain function. They were thoughts, but they weren't human. They were thoughts, but they weren't as complex as a being, even a monster like this, should be having.

The tunnel split into various corridors, like circuitry of a computer, following routes to a central hub, which served as the base of operations for the creatures. The creature burrowed, turning left, rounding a corner, crawling for miles through the earth, rock, dirt, the green glowing acid burning and fading behind it.

Finally, after many hours of burrowing, the same thoughts in its head (_find others, report food, get help, eat_), the creature reached the alcove. It was at least eighty feet tall, hollowed out in a perfect cube shape. Upright stood twelve more of the creatures. They each turned their heads toward their scout.

"Report," said one of the creatures to the one that had been burrowing.

"This unit detects sustenance. This unit detects mutant DNA. This unit requires assistance."

Each of the twelve creatures, in an eerie, robot-like voice, spoke in turn to the scout.

"This unit will comply."

"This unit will comply."

"This unit will comply."

"This unit will comply …"

- - - - - -

Three days earlier, Colossus had found himself alone in a field, as he had found himself so many times. It was a corn field, the stalks not yet ready for harvesting, the tall plants nearly covering up his tall frame. He had been studying the soil in his fingers, his flesh fingers (steel was so intrusive to the subtleties of farming).

As he ran his fingers through the earth, its thick clumps crumbled and fell to the ground without noise. A crow cawed in the distance. The wind brushed the cornstalks against one another.

The X-men were in Iowa. Colossus and Shadowcat were scouting this particular corn field for "anything abnormal" as the professor had put it. Charles had been acting quite strangely about this particular mission. He had said there was an "exorbitant amount" of energy coming from Iowa, and it must have been something if the professor was so concerned. It was enough that it had woken the professor and given him the impetus to call them all to his office in the middle of the night. They had left in the X-Jet before dawn.

Now, they were in a corn field. Colossus, Shadowcat, Wolverine, Iceman, and Nightcrawler. Cylcops and Jean had stayed at the mansion to look over things. The rest of the team members were on various assignments all over the globe. Angel in Antarctica, doing some kind of reconassince that concerned the deaths of scores of penguins. Beast in Tokyo, discussing Japanese policy on the classification of mutants. Gambit and Rogue assigned to Paris and a nasty new fear-inducing mutant calling himself "The Scare."

Each of the team had been given a section of the 300 acres to search … by foot. At the edge of the field, Colossus had seen Wolverine chopping down great swaths of the corn, trying to make a path.

"Don't destroy the crop," the professor had 'thought' to Logan and the team. The professor was stationed on the X-Jet. "The farmers have done nothing wrong, and the fallen plants will just impede your search."

"Fine," Logan had thought back. "But I sure as hell ain't no damn farmer, and this stuff's getting' in my way."

"Do you have something against farmers?" Colossus had thought over the telepathic link.

"Nope," thought Wolverine. "Especially nothing against ones as big as you."

There was a sense of joviality telepathically shared between all of the members of the team. Colossus felt Kitty smile. H heard Iceman think, "Cool."

And why shouldn't they have a little fun? It was a very warm summer day, the sky was a shocking blue, the air smelled sweet. It was as if they were strolling among the rows of their own farm.

They had no idea until it was too late.

Iceman hit the ground beside Colossus in an explosion of dirt and ice shards. Had Colossus not instinctively gone steel, he would have been impaled. There was an intense telepathic sensation of pain coming from Bobby, then unconsciousness.

- - - - -

_So, what did you think? Hope you enjoyed it. Your comments will determine if I continue writing this._

_Thanks!_


End file.
